I love Christmas. The meaning of it, the traditions, exchanging gifts, the songs and food. But the way we’ve celebrated Christmas in the past few decades, the way we celebrated last year, is a relatively new way of living.
There was a time when Christmas morning brought presents that weren’t trivial. Gifts often held new versions of worn out items. Things that helped with warmth, work, and education. December 25th offered up toys that had been wished for all year.
That’s not exactly how most of us are living these days.
Now it seems almost a burden to make a Christmas list. Nearly everyone gives “nothing” as their answer to “What do you want for Christmas?” Shopping for gifts becomes tedious and stressful.
Do I desire nothing for Christmas because I’m so satisfied with what I already have? Unfortunately, no. It’s because in all our low-middle class wealth, I want for nothing.
We buy things so often that we have destroyed the concept of anticipation.
So we, like many others, have chosen to scale down our gift giving this Christmas. I can’t remember a year when we didn’t discuss taking it easy, but this time we’re actually following through with our plans.
Personally, my decision stemmed from realizing that while there are many things I’d love to receive, things I’d cherish and enjoy, there are few things I really want.
And things I need? Nope. There are none of those.
I have a home filled with food, a family filled with love, and a savior filled with grace.
I am already blessed beyond measure.
But those are words often said and not always believed. Even when I’m the one saying them.
So tonight, I wondered how to put my material blessings into perspective. What would it take for me to understand even the tip of the iceberg that is my riches?
And then it came to me.
What if from December 26 until December 25 of the following year, what if every single non-essential purchase I made was wrapped and stored in my closet until Christmas morning?
Would a single closet offer enough space? Would I need a room to hold it all?
All the clothes.
The makeup.
The coffee mugs.
The decorations.
The movies and books and music.
The soft blankets.
The soaps and candles.
The fabric.
The chocolate.
The journals and the sharpies.
What if I saved it all for Christmas Day?
How would I feel upon seeing the boxes and bags stacked around the Christmas tree?
I can’t help but wonder, would the abundance bring me joy or shame?